The Great Wreck (34 page)

“Well,
now,” he said quietly, “It’s a fair question. Let me tell you what I needed to
do…” And quick as a fucking snake, the bastard was on me. I should have seen it
coming, I should have noticed how James had been closing the distance between
us, how he shifted the way he stood so he could get within arm’s length of me.
His fist flashed out in a blink connecting with the side of my head sending I
burst of pain and light through my skull.

I
dropped my rifle and clutched my head as the blows rained down on me.
Eventually James landed one to my injured ribs sending me to the asphalt
clutching my side and struggling to breath but James didn’t stop there as he
proceeded to kick every square inch of my body. I curled up in a ball trying to
protect myself. I thought James was going to kill me right then and there. But
like I said earlier, James had other plans and finally the blows came to a
stop.

I
could hear James panting as he said, “Stuff you wouldn’t understand you goddam
pecker tickler,” he heaved as he nearly collapsed against the trucks back tire,
“Any more questions?”

I
thought about the pistols strapped to my hips. I didn’t have any more questions
but I thought I had an answer. I thought I might have a fair shot at getting
one of them unholstered and pointed at that demon’s head and might have just
enough time to put a bullet or two through the wriggling mass of insanity that
passed for James’ brain.

He
must have sensed it, must have saw it in my eyes for in a flash he was up and
on my with his own pistol pressed against my temple with the hammer cocked,
“You want me to do it you useless granny fondler? Want me to spread your prissy
little brains all over this fucking road, you goddam turkey jacker? I will do
it and I swear that to god,” he said with his acrid breath pouring into my face
and sweat dripping down his nose.

“Do
it,” I said, “Do it right now.” I didn’t care. It would be a painless end and I
would be able to escape James, this world, and the dead forever.
 
Either James would end it now or I’d be
packing sand away from this nut farm as soon as I had the chance.

James
laughed and un-cocked his gun, “I guess you learned a thing or two out there in
the Great Southwestern Wasteland. Like maybe how to grow a tiny,
tiny
pair of balls,” he said. James
seems to read my mind and say, “However, don’t even think that you can ditch me
you little sack packer. I can track you anywhere you go. Don’t believe me? Then
consider this. I left you in Phoenix, what, three weeks ago? I got here long
before you, made my way through a fucking million dead people, countless
burning towns, and I still nearly put a bullet right up you scrawny ass. I can
do that anytime I want. Got it?”

I
just lay there waiting for the pain to subside glaring at James.

“Oh,
I’d say you got it so why don’t we get moving. I think I know a place where we
can crash for a few days before heading north.”

I
slowly got to my feet and picked up my pack, holding my ribs tight with my arm.
I thought again about pulling my pistol and blowing the back of James head
clear off but then he turned and winked at me and I knew I couldn’t do it. Not
just yet. So bruised and beaten, I followed James into the mini wreck that was
downtown Las Cruces.

We
moved down the highway. James was looking neither left nor right, just trucking
along like he owned the world and nothing here could hurt him. It occurred to
me that he moved like a man who had thoroughly scouted out the area and knew
where he was heading. Even if I knew every square inch of the place I wouldn’t
be moving so brashly. I kept my head moving around looking for dead drifting
along the empty streets, looking for dead in the corners and shadows, looking
at everything and everywhere waiting for something to jump out at us.

James?
Not at all. He walked on like he owned the world which was why it was so
satisfying when a blue and pink blur shot out from an ally and knocked James
over, relived him of his guns, and placed the business end of a very large bore
pistol against his head. I just stopped and stood there partly because I was
too shocked that James had just been thoroughly unmanned and partly because of
who had done it.

The
girl had James pinned with his right arm pulled behind his back with her right
hand and the pistol pointed at the base of his skull with her left, “Who are
you!?” she screamed at him, “What the fuck are you doing here!?”

I’ll
give James credit. He may be crazier than a syphilitic sixty year old whore but
he was quick and smart, “Travelers, sweet thing, just travelers. And if you’re
so intent on wrapping your legs around me, let me roll over and we’ll get in
the right position.”

The
girl pulled James’s arm up a little higher indicating that she did not approve
of his suggestion. She had a shock of blond hair done up into two spiky pig
tails, pale blue eyes that looked at me over a button nose and full lips that
were set in a hard line. She wore a tight tank top that was stenciled “Fuck the
Dead” with a vest full of ammunition clips and a pair of low cut shorts that
could generously be described as…well…short. Daisy Dukes if the original Daisy
Duke had been looking to display a whole lot more of her flesh. The girl caught
me out of the corner of her eye and pointed the pistol at me, “How about it
kid? Gonna tell me who you are or do I tear your friend’s arm from his socket?”

I
pointed at her shirt and smiled, “Hope you don’t mean that literally. You might
catch a disease. I could see the ghost of a smile appear on her mouth, “And I
highly recommend pulling Mr. Frank’s arm free from his socket. Might do us all
a favor.” James glared at me for the asphalt. I thought he’d try to make me pay
for my comments later, but I didn’t plan of giving
 
James the chance.

“I
don’t think dead men can get it up.”

I
blushed and cocked my head to the side as though thinking about her observation
then said, “What do you think, James? I don’t think she should be asking any
questions do you? None of her business, right? I think I’ll keep our little
secret, you know? Mums the word.”

James
swore at me, “Well, well, well. Mr. Big Britches’ balls just got a little
bigger.”

I
watched the girl and could see the look of confusion on her face. I looked
around and still could see no dead but I didn’t think that would last for long
so I sighed and said, “We just got here. We came from Los Angeles and are heading
to Sandia. The greasy, white trash stink bag you have pinned in James Frank.
I’m Thomas Greenly.”

She
pointed the pistol back at James’s head but released his arm. With her now free
hand she pulled out a radio and spoke into it, “Birch, this is Marti. Over.”

“Go
ahead Marti,” a male voice replied.

“I’ve
got two guys here. Say they are headed east. Say they just got here. I believe
the kid, but the older guy, well, I think he’s lying.”

“OK,
Marti. Hold tight. We’ll be there in just a few minutes and then we’re gonna
have to get inside. Another wave is heading our way. Should be here in a half
an hour.”

I
heard the girl swear, “Another wave? What the fuck? Are they having some sort
of convention up north or something?” she said, “OK, well we’re over by the
Whataburger. We’ll just hold tight and wait for you to pick us up. Any company
nearby?”

“Nope.
It’s all clear from you to here.”

Another
wave. The man on the radio must be talking about the dead, “Shouldn’t we move
indoors?” I said looking down the roads that headed south expecting to see a
wall of dead heading our direction but it was still and empty.

“Nah,
Birch and the crew will be hear in just a minute. Are you two brothers or
something? I know brothers who hate each other like you do but you two don’t
sound like friends.”

“Oh,
we’re the best of friends, honey pot,” James said resting his head on the
gritty asphalt, “We’re like peas and carrots. Captain and Tennille. Donny and
Marie.”

“What
the fuck is he talking about?” Marti said looking at me.

“James
had spent far too much time in the desert and the crazy little rat that serves
as his brain has up and died.”

“You
sure got cocky, you fucking McKnobber Jobber. Just wait until this little hen
is off my back, then we’ll see if you’re still up to running your mouth,” James
turned his head and looked at Marti with his right eye, “And the next time I’m
between your legs, it’ll be you screaming, sweet snatch.”

I
saw the blood rush up into Marti’s face as she pulled up on his arm. James
screamed as she leaned forward and hissed at him, “You mean like that?” I was
really beginning to like Marti.

She
let off the pressure on his arm and James spat back, “Oh much louder fuck cake.
I’ll plant your daisy and you’ll limp for a month.”

I
think Marti might have torn his arm lose right there but we all heard the sound
of an approaching vehicle. Even James shut his yap for a minute and looked
around to see where it was coming from. It had been so long since we’d actually
heard the engine of a car. And since the dead zeroed in on noise, we were both
nervous but excited to see the machine, an actual operating relic from a lost
civilization.

When
the car rounded the street corner, it turned out to be a van. A large twelve
seater with government plates and the New Mexico state seal on the side doors.
Inside were three well-armed men who stepped out of the van as soon as it
stopped while a woman sat at the steering wheel and kept the motor running.

“We
got to move quickly, Marti. Go get in the car,” a tall, lean man of about fifty
said as he snapped a pair of hand cuffs on James and pulled him to his feet,
“Grab their gear,” he said and looked at me, “You need a pair of cuffs or are
you going to behave?”

“I’ll
behave,” I said, “He won’t,” pointing to James as I quickly moved to the van
and climbed in. The three men hooked James to a loop in one of the seats as I
dropped my gear to the floor and pulled on the seatbelt automatically. I heard
Marti giggle as she climbed in behind me.

“I
didn’t think you’ll get a ticket for not wearing that,” she said.

“Old
habits, “ I said and laughed at myself but kept the seatbelt on, “Safety
first.”

The
two men jammed James in between them in the front seat as the woman hit the
gas. It was a strange sensation actually riding in a car after so long on foot.
We sped through the dead town and I marveled at the empty buildings and burnt
out wrecks flew by. The woman expertly navigated through the blockages in the
road and soon pulled up to a massive, concrete gate. I craned my neck to see
the top of it as she honked twice. The gate slowly parted and she gunned the
van in. The gates closed behind us as the women drove the van down a street
completely cleared of cars. I looked around at the enclosed area. It was
surreal. Everything was neat and clean as though the collapse of the outside
world had never happened.

I
could see a few large buildings surrounded by smaller ones and behind those a
large concrete wall on all four sides. I could also see other gates on the west
and south side where cars had been stacked up against them. The south gate
looked as though it had been blasted off its tracks and hastily repaired again.

The
van pulled up to the largest building, turned left, and went down a ramp and
into an underground parking lot. The door slowly closed behind us cutting off
the bright desert light. I could still see though: all along the perimeter of
the parking garage were narrow windows that let in the light. It still freaked
me out with all the dark spaces and shadows potentially hiding the dead.

Marti
read the look on my face and said, “We cleared them out a while back. We
checked every nook and cranny then sealed off anywhere we couldn’t crawl into
just in case. We did that for all the buildings here in the Green Zone after we
got the gates back up and sealed. It helped pass the time.”

The
men pulled us out of the van and marched us down a flight of stairs and past a
set of doors marked “State Police Office, Las Cruces.” Uh oh.

Uh
oh indeed. The men marched us past those doors, down a dark hallway and right
into a pair of holding cells. At the sight of the cells, James started freaking
out, “Don’t you fucking put me in there you bitch chompers!” he screamed as he
kicked and fought like a crazy devil, “I will fucking tear out your guts if you
put me in there!” he screamed, “I will cluster fuck every one of your twice
then shit on your corpses!”

Bitch
chompers? That was a new one.
  

One
of the men applied the butt of his rifle to the back of James’ head cutting off
his raving. James fell to the ground like a sack of bricks. They tossed his
limp body in one cell and were about to toss me in the same one when I said as
calmly as I could, “Would it be possible for you to put me in a different cell?
One a few doors down?”

I
think that did more to convince these people that I was not like James than
anything else. The man who had put James down looked at me with a small amount
of sympathy and said, “Sure, kid. We can do that. And don’t worry yourself too
much. We won’t keep you here long. Just until the Doc gets a look at you. Make
sure you’re not infected.”

“You
might want to keep James in here longer,” I said as they closed and locked the
door behind me.

“You
guys aren’t friends?” he asked.

“James
doesn’t have friends only people he uses.”

The
man nodded as he hung our gear of a nearby set of hooks, “Doc will be done in a
bit. He’s up on the third floor with a couple of our tech nerds watching the
fucking dead streaming up from the south. You can rest down here. It’s safe.
There’s some food and water under the cot,” he said then headed out of the
holding area.